


Strike a Pose

by gabewrites



Category: But - Fandom, Fun alien costume boys, Still no, Uh - Fandom, What a fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, b l e a se
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 20:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabewrites/pseuds/gabewrites
Summary: Sung ducks out of the nights activities to take a break on the bus.





	Strike a Pose

**Author's Note:**

> Wow this is cutesy I love y'all.

They didn't get much alone time on tour, nearly none at all. The tour bus was generally packed full of sweaty people heading to the next venue or devoid of people because they were getting sweaty at the  _ current _ venue. There wasn't really time to sit and relax, let alone to sit and relax in quiet privacy. This was especially true considering that Planet Booty was coming along with them on this tour. And Dylan was perhaps the sweatiest of them all. 

So when the rest of the guys offered to go out for dinner after a show one night, Sung opted to be the lame one out of the bunch. 

Meouch used Sung as an arm rest briefly, annoying him but catching his attention. “C’mon, you don't even have to buy it, Doctor!” Phobos nudged his shoulder trying to get him in the spirit of celebration. Sung weighed his options, and from every angle it seemed more logical (and more comfortable) to go back to the bus and strip out of his sweaty armour, get comfortable. And he could do it all alone. 

Don't get him wrong, he loved touring and loved the people he was touring with even more, but alone time could be refreshing. “You guys go ahead, I'm tired, and I think I've had enough sweat for one night.” Sung thought about the fact that he could probably wring out his suit after a show like that and then proceeded to be grossed out. “Bring me back leftovers!” 

The TWRP boys seemed satisfied with that response, all shrugging and discussing what restaurants were within walking distance. But Dylan seemed unconvinced. “Is this because when I leaned over the keyboard I got sweat in your mouth- because I thought it was sexy.” Dylan smirked, wiping some of said sweat from his forehead. Sung honestly couldn't tell if the man was joking.

“I'm- very tired,” That was partially a lie, as he didn't feel the need to rest or sleep anytime soon. If anything he was invigorated after a great show and would crash later, but he was mentally exhausted. He needed some alone time. “Though I feel bad for the fans, they may get more sweat than me.” Speaking of sweat, Sung was dying to get out of his sweaty suit, and being the first back on the bus meant he could strip as soon as he got there. 

Dylan just laughed a little, seeing that everyone had started walking away but sticking around a moment longer. “Don't have too much fun by yourself.” Sung looked over at where Dylan had placed a hand on his shoulder, and he laughed to himself, giving a warm smile before Dylan turned to catch up with the rest of the guys. Sung did feel a tinge of regret for a moment after watching his friends walk away, but he reminded himself that this was for him, a little self care. There would be hundreds of outings to join in on later.

He held the key to the bus in his hand while he turned around, fidgeting with the rest of the keys on the ring to fill time. It felt a little foreign to open up the bus without a rush of his friends racing to get in first, but he twisted the key in the lock anyway, finding his way into the eerily quiet bus. He closed the door behind him and immediately shed his helmet, sitting it where he usually sat. He did, however, have the whole bus to himself right now. He could sit wherever he wanted. Or not sit. Music, it was time for music, the bus was too quiet without the guys to liven it up. 

He hooked his phone up to the speaker they had set up in the bus for their long trips and clicked shuffle on his music, just wanting something to mindlessly listen to. If you asked him what the first few songs were that played, he wouldn't have known. He was too busy wrestling himself out of his sweaty outfit. This was why the bus had heavily tinted windows. 

First to go were his shoes, unceremoniously thrown to the corner of the bus where he would scramble to find them later. A few straps were undone, armor taken off, and he breathed out a sigh of relief when he finally peeled his body suit off and stood in the middle of the bus. Boxers on. Disgustingly sweaty suit at his feet. Living the dream. He went behind the little curtain they had installed for some privacy while changing to try to find some comfy clothes, and he grabbed the first tank top he saw. He already felt more comfortable. 

He even grabbed a new pair of boxers for good measure. They were pretty awful, plaid sort of dad boxers that were somehow a little too small, but they were comfortable enough. He stretched and kicked his dirty clothes to the side, walking back out into the bus. It was so empty, and the music sounded even louder than usual, but that was good. Just after the last note of a past song faded out, Sung heard a familiar tune fill the room, and he heard his own voice on the talk box over the speaker. 

It was vain to listen to your own band, wasn't it? Or was it just vain to wear your own merch on stage. He could never do that anyway. Normally he would have skipped it and listened to something that he didn't have to perform all the time, but he felt a smile form on his face. This was his song. And he hadn't heard the nice and polished version in a while. It made him sigh and think just a little, think about how far he and his band had come. Yeah that was nice. 

He slowly warmed up to the song and couldn't help but smile, tapping his foot a little first. He couldn't deny it was catchy, and a grin spread across his face when he thought about performing it on stage.

_ WELL I'VE GOT MOVES FOR YOU _

No one was around, and he had no shame to hide. He started walking to the other end of the bus, his body swaying a little in time with the music while he went to fetch his shoes. He threw the shoes along with the rest of his stuff and padded along in his socks, striking a pose to the beat. He laughed at himself but he kept moving, sliding along the long side bus seat with a smile. 

_ STRIKE A POSE TONIGHT! _

Sung grinned and grabbed his helmet to put back on, only briefly cringing when he felt the sweat back on him. He was singing along now, sounding considerable daintier without the talk box, but jamming out nonetheless. He hadn't really thought about how he looked, loose fitting tank top on, too-small boxers, his helmet on top of it all. But he posed with one leg up on the seat, bopping his head to the beat. He hopped down and clapped to the music at just the right spot, socked feet sliding across the floor as he spoke muddled french. 

He was so entranced he hadn't noticed the bus door open over the load music, and he certainly didn't notice anyone entering until Dylan started to laugh and Sung stopped dead in his tracks, no longer snapping his body into all the funky dance moves he did on stage. He immediately felt his face flush with embarrassment. He pulled his helmet off and pushed it back onto his seat, nervous laughter filling the room. “What are you doing here, Dylan?” Sung scratched the back of his neck and looked around the bus awkwardly.

Dylan smiled and walked closer, staring Sung up and down. “Is this what you came back here to do, have I been missin’ out on a free show? Dylan laughed, watching Sung look down at his feet. He put his hand under Sung’s chin and pulling his face up at the beat picked up one last time, looking him straight in the eye. “Don't stop because of me.” Sung giggled to himself, moving a little again, this time not as exaggerated. But Dylan coughed at him, flinging off his shoes and trying to slide across the floor as well. (He almost fell, but he picked himself back up). 

_ STRIKE A POSE TONIGHT _

Dylan grinned and struck a pose leaning back against the wall, swaying his body and moving back over to Sung. Sung was certainly back into it now, laughing along and striking his next post along with Dylan, bumping into him awkwardly and laughing at the line came to an end, only the outro to go. “So, I take it you've been having fun?”

Sung hid his face again, antennae drooping. “I didn't plan that! It just came on.” A warm laugh filled the air, and Sung realized no one else had come back with Dylan. “Why are you here?” Dylan feigned an insulted face, running a quick hand through Sung’s hair. 

“The guys wanted to go to a restaurant I didn't like, so I said I'd come back with you.” Dylan flung off his shirt to the other end of the bus shamefully, almost exactly how he did on stage. There was still a sheen of sweat over his torso of course, but his shirt hit the opposite wall before the last note of the song rung out, a moment of dead air hitting the open area.

Just a second after Dylan heard a familiar sound, a build up and then a heavy beat, and a bigger smile broke out on his face. “You have my music on your phone?” He tried to keep himself cool and suave, but he couldn't help but feel honored that Sung kept his trashy sex songs on his phone. Sung only covered his face, letting out a big sigh. Listening to Dylan's band was certainly a guilty pleasure he didn't usually talk about indulging in. He could listen to Dylan's voice anytime he wanted, but sometimes he wanted that trashy sound filling his ears. 

“Yeah, I like it.” Sung laughed to himself, hoping that Dylan didn't find it weird. “We can skip it?” Dylan laughed harder, feeling the build up in his own song and backing up a little for a theatrical entrance, extremely ready to make Sung blush even more. 

Dylan grinned. “Not a change, Gorgeous.” He stepped forward on the big beat.

_ YOU'VE GOT THAT BOOTY BABY _

Dylan winked, singing along loudly and pointing at Sung, slowly getting closer and watching Sung’s antennae spark into a straight up, attentive position, his face still flushed. He covered his face and tried to look away, but even though Dylan had him flustered, he couldn't help but look. Dylan slowly got closer and kept teasing, laughing along until he grabbed Sung’s hands, pulling him in to dance a little. He wanted to give Sung’s butt a playful smack to fit the nature of the song (of course, those boxers were a little tight and they both knew), but he didn't want to make the guy implode. 

Dylan pressed a kiss to his forehead as the section of the song ended, but Sung grabbed his face, pulling him into a real kiss and laughing into it happily. Dylan kissed back of course, hands running through Sung’s hair again as his caught Sung’s bottom lip between his teeth before pulling away. They both just grinned for a while, listening to the song end and looking too happy for their own good. 

“You're a giant dork, you know that?” Dylan laughed, still standing close to Sung. Sung was a dork, and Dylan loved that about him. 

Sung just laughed back poking Dylan’s bare chest with an accusatory look on his face. “You too!”

Dylan shrugged. “Can't argue with that.” He pulled Sung back into another kiss, chuckling against his lips with the finger against his chest disappeared and Sung's hand laid flat, feeling the steady beat in his chest, new music pounding through the bus. 


End file.
